The smoke of battle had yet to clear from Marineford. Amid the bloodstained ice and shattered walls, one hundred thousand Marines still stood with guns in hand, but their once-orderly formations had long since fallen into disarray. Soldiers whispered among themselves, their faces filled with fear and confusion. News of the fall of the Four Blues spread through the ranks like a plague, and even Vice Admiral-level officers could no longer steady their troops' morale.
Atop the ruins of the Execution Platform, Sengoku clutched the Den Den Mushi in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The golden radiance of his Buddha Form had long since faded, and his white hair blew wildly in the sea breeze. In just a few hours, the Fleet Admiral who had commanded the Marines for decades seemed to have aged ten years.
His gaze swept over the demoralized Marines in the square, over Whitebeard's Remnant Group still watching fiercely in the distance, and over Huang Zhong standing immovable in the center of the battlefield. Finally, it settled on Whitebeard's body, still standing upright. He let out a heavy breath, laden with endless exhaustion and reluctance.
"Fleet Admiral!!"
Granny Tsuru walked to his side, her voice slightly hoarse as well. "We can't keep fighting. If we do, the Marines' elite forces will be completely spent here. We've already lost the Four Blues. All we can do now is preserve Marineford, hold the Red Line's last line of defense, and wait for a chance for reinforcements to return."
Sengoku closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, only cold resolve remained. He picked up the Amplifying Den Den Mushi, and his voice rang through the broadcasts across all of Marineford, and through the Visual Den Den Mushi carrying the live broadcast:
"**All members